Scenes From A Childhood
by HuskerCat
Summary: A look into the life of Don and Charlie's little sister, Julia.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is the first of (hopefully) several chapters about the childhood of Don and Charlie's little sister, Julia. She's 10 years younger than Charlie, 15 years younger than Don. I created that large of an age gap so that several things that we know from cannon (for example the infamous camping trip) would have happened as we have heard about them. Also, it allows Charlie to be the youngest child for long enough so that he is the individual that we know and love :) In addition, it allows me the opportunity to look at some of the decisions that Alan and Margaret made and to see them through a different set of eyes.**

**I hope you enjoy!**

She of course didn't remember her birth or the early days of her life, but she'd seen the pictures, heard the stories. Stories about how her parents, after having two boys, had always wanted to have a girl. They had tried for years without success and had accepted that they would be a family of four. And then, quite by surprise, when her brothers were almost 10 and almost 15, their parents announced to them that their mother was pregnant. And months later, on an early March day, the kind of day that can only exist in southern California, she came in to the world, Julia Renee Eppes, 6 lbs 14 oz, the daughter her parents had long hoped for.

On that first day, her father had brought her brother Don to see her, and he, other than the nurses and her parents, was the first one to hold her. As the story went, her brother was at first, very uncomfortable with the idea of holding his new baby sister, especially when she'd started to cry. But their mother coaxed him through his initial nervousness, encouraging him to talk to her. He did keep talking to her, pausing only to gently wipe away the tears from her little round cheeks when she'd stopped crying. He'd then touched her wiggling little fingers, which she wrapped around his, impressing him with her grip. She knew this was more than just a story that her parents told, as her first picture, in her brother's arms in the hospital, hung on the wall in their family room.

A few days later, her parents brought her home. In the days in between, her father and brothers had finished her nursery, using the small room across from her parents' bedroom. They painted the little room baby girl pink, so different from the warm neutrals that dominated their Craftsman home, and hung white eyelet lace curtains on the windows. They had put the new baby furniture together; her brothers' baby things having long been given away. Her new crib was made with soft pink and white sheets and covered with a pastel baby quilt. When they'd arrived home, her father and brothers shepparded her mother and her up to the completed room. Her mother had oooed and ahhed over the room, amazed at how well they had done. She didn't know until years later that they'd gone to the baby store and had had the clerk show them what to choose; she'd informed them how to make things **coordinate**, not match. The final touch, though, had been chosen by Don. On the way home from running errands with his father, he'd had him pull over at a florist near the house. He'd recently started dating and had learned that girls liked flowers, and so it only seemed appropriate that his baby sister should be greeted with them. He'd wandered around the small shop, trying to decide what to get, when he saw them. Daisies. Daisies seemed like the perfect flower for a baby. He'd gotten three dozen of them and when they'd arrived home, he found a glass bowl to arrange them in. When he was done, he took them up to the nursery and placed them very carefully on the shelf near the crib, so that she would always be able to see them. Her mother had loved that detail and after that, had often kept flowers in her nursery, in the same place that Don had originally put them.

That nursery became her haven for the first three years of her life, the place where she was rocked and read to, comforted and spoiled. Where she learned to adore her big brother Don, who would sometimes come in and pick her up when she cried. Where she learned to be puzzled by Charlie, who would, on occasion, come in with his notebooks and watch her, writing furiously. She later discovered that Charlie was collecting data on her, trying to develop equations that would help him make sense of the strange little thing that was his baby sister.

While her nursery was her haven, it wasn't her only one. From the time she was tiny baby, she'd loved to be held, loved human contact. She loved the way her mother held her, wrapped up in her towel after her bath, the way her father took her hand while she toddled around the backyard, making sure that she didn't tumble into the koi pond. But what she really loved was to snuggle and she'd quickly learned the best ways to get her "big people" to take the time to indulge her. She'd initially tried toddling up to them, reaching for them or babbling to them, but it hadn't worked well. She rarely got the reaction she wanted. So, she tried another approach. When they were still long enough, she would crawl into their laps or burrow under their arms. She'd found this much more effective.

She'd always felt that her father's lap was probably her favorite, his big hands and strong arms were always so warm, so comforting. Whenever he would sit in his chair to read or work on a crossword puzzle, she would toddle up to him and climb up in to his lap. He would look up, take off his glasses and put aside his reading. As soon as he did, she would press her face into his chest, her small fingers winding themselves into his shirt, his arms wrapping around her little body, holding her close. She would always sigh, content in her daddy's warmth and strength, knowing in her heart that all was right with her little world.

It had been harder to find random moments with her mother. She was always doing something, working on her legal papers, taking Charlie to his various classes and lessons, preparing meals. But when she found those moments, she knew her mother's lap was different, her long, slender fingers cool to the touch, settling her when she didn't feel well or finding just the right spot to massage on the back of her neck to calm her when she'd become frustrated, often from trying to chase after her brothers. Those same fingers would also brush through her hair, slowly separating the dark strands and playing with the little curls at the ends. She loved having her mommy play with her hair; her touch and soft whispers often sending her in to a peaceful sleep, with any worry or care banished from her mind.

Don and Charlie were an entirely different experience. Donnie wasn't there much, always off at school or baseball or with his friends, but when she managed to catch him, his snuggles were like no other. He would center her in his lap, wrapping his arms around her, resting his chin on her head, all the while gently teasing her to make her giggle. No one made her giggle the way Donnie did; his energy making her feel like she could do anything. Daddy comforted her, Mommy soothed her, but Donnie, Donnie made her fearless.

Charlie did none of those things. He always seemed restless, unable to simply sit with her, deal with her little girl ways, her little girl needs. As far as she knew, he'd never found the algorithm or formula that he'd searched for to understand her and she often sensed his discomfort, his frustration, at being with her. But there were moments, times when he was able to settle down himself. And sometimes, she found her way to him during those moments, and she would curl up next to him, her head resting on his side. He would awkwardly wrap his arm around her shoulder, uncomfortable with her desire to snuggle. But he would try. And while she didn't feel warmth or comfort or boundless energy from him, she knew she was safe.

Those were wonderful moments for her, the time when they were all still together, her brothers both still at home, before she had any understanding of the complex dynamics that existed in her family. She loved her family, she loved her home and she loved the little universe that they created together. That little universe would inevitably change (something for which Charlie might actually be able to create an equation). In hindsight, she could identify the exact day when it all started to change, but at the time, she had no idea.


	2. Third Birthday part 1

She remembered the day clearly, as clearly as anyone can remember their third birthday. She'd been curled up in her crib sleeping, her hair a dark stream around her, when she felt her back being rubbed. She opened her eyes. "Mommy," she squeaked, rolling over on her back.

Her mother pushed her hair off her face. "Good morning, sweetheart." Her mother picked her up and gave her a kiss. "Do you remember what today is?"

She cocked her head. "Huh?"

"It's your birthday," her mother told her, smiling. "Do you remember how old you are?"

She clapped her hands. "Birthday!" She heard a noise and looked towards the door. "Daddy!"

He walked over to them and kissed the top of her head. "Good morning, little one."

She giggled. "Birthday, Daddy. I is three."

"Yes, you are three. That's quite a big girl," he told her.

Her mother took her over to the changing table to start to get her ready for the day. "I'm a big girl, Mommy."

"Big girls still need to get changed in the morning so they can have their breakfasts." Her mother looked over to her father. "Alan, can you make sure the boys are up? I'm making a special birthday breakfast."

"Pancakes!" she squealed. "Pancakes!"

"Yes, pancakes. And eggs. And juice," her mother added.

"I drink milk," she said.

"You can have milk, sweetheart." Her mother told her, while trying to get her to hold still. After a few minutes of her fidgeting, her mother put her down, only partially dressed. "Julie, why don't we pick out your clothes together since you are such a big girl."

She went over to her wardrobe and pointed to where her good clothes hung. "I wanna dress. Birthday dress."

"You can wear a dress later, for your party. Right now we're going to choose play clothes." Her mother opened one of the drawers and pulled out two pairs of cotton overalls. "Which one of these do you want to wear?"

"No, Mommy. Dress." She stomped her little foot.

"No. Which one of these?" She held up the pants again.

She scrunched up her face, but she knew the tone of voice. You didn't mess with Mommy when she used it. "Pink," she said, pointing to a pair of pink overalls with flowers embroidered on the pockets. Pink was her favorite color. Her mother then opened a second drawer and took out two shirts. "Which shirt?"

She looked at them both. She pointed to the white one with little pink and purple flowers. Her mother took the clothes that weren't chosen and put them back in the drawers and then helped her put on the chosen outfit. Within a few minutes, she was dressed, complete with little white socks and sneakers. "You look very pretty," her father said from the doorway.

She giggled.

"Are the boys up?" her mother asked.

"They're awake," he answered. He looked back at her. "Would you like to go get your brothers out of bed?"

She jumped up and down. "Up! Get brothers up!"

Her father picked her up and carried her to the door of Don's bedroom. "Shh," her father whispered to her. He opened the door a crack and looked in. He then opened the door a little wider and snuck in the room. He put her on the bed, her small frame barely moving the mattress. Don didn't move. She started to creep over to him, climbing on him until she sat on his midsection. He shifted underneath her. "Donnie up!" she squealed, bouncing on him.

"Stop," he groaned, trying to pull his pillow over his head.

She slid off of him. She poked him in the nose. "Nose," she said. "Lips." She touched his mouth. "Eyes." She pushed her little fingers into his closed eyes. "Open eyes."

He tried to push her hand away. "Not if you're going to poke me in them," he mumbled.

"Get up. Eat birthday breakfast. Now." She started to crawl back on him.

"Okay. Okay. I'll get up. Just get off of me."

Her father came over and scooped her up off her brother. "Good job, little one," he told her. "Do you want to try Charlie now?"

She nodded. She liked when her parents gave her the opportunity to wake up her brothers. But she'd also learned to be a little more wary of Charlie, who was a little less patient with her.

He took her down the hall and repeated the procedure from Don's room. She crept over Charlie's smaller frame and as she did, her knee dug into his side. He turned over quickly, dumping her onto the bed. "That's my kidney," he yelped.

She struggled to right herself. Once she did, she smacked him. "Bad Charlie."

He pushed himself up. "Hey, why are you hitting me? What are you even doing in here? Get off my bed!"

Her father came to her rescue. "Charlie, I brought her in. And I wouldn't have needed to if you'd gotten up when I'd asked you to."

She reached up to her daddy, who responded by picking her up. She stuck out her tongue at her brother. "Yeah. Time for birthday breakfast."

"That's enough, little one," he said firmly.

She rested her cheek against her father's shoulder. He would never be upset with her when she did that. Another thing she'd learned very quickly.

"Birthday breakfast?" Charlie asked. "It's not my birthday. Or Don's."

"My birthday, Charlie," she'd been absolutely incensed that he didn't know it was her birthday. Why did people think he was so smart? "I is three."

Her father laughed as Charlie sighed. "I think your job here is done, Julie. I think we should let your brothers get ready." He carried her out of the room. As soon as they entered the hall, she decided she'd had enough.

"Daddy, down!" she demanded.

"It's almost time for breakfast," he told her. "Let's go downstairs."

She wiggled around, trying to get loose from him. He put her down rather than chance dropping her. She scampered off to her room. He followed her. "What are you doing?" he asked.

She went to her rocking chair, taking her favorite rag doll, Molly, from the seat. Her mother always put Molly there after she got her up in the morning, and also if she found her just lying around the house. That way, if she couldn't find her Molly dolly, she always knew where to go. She hugged her doll close. She looked up at her father. "Mine," she said. "My Molly." She headed out of her room and went downstairs, doll under her arm, her father following behind.

She pushed her way through the kitchen door, put her doll on the counter and climbed up into the high chair her parents kept by the kitchen island so that she could more safely watch what was going on. She took her doll off the counter and set it in her lap, her arms wrapped around it like she was holding a child.

"Did you like waking up your brothers?" her mother asked as moved about the kitchen making breakfast.

"Yeah, but Charlie was mean." She made a face.

"He was mean? Charlie? Really?"

Her father jumped in. "Mean isn't exactly the right word. When she crawled over him, she gave him an accidental kidney shot, which, well, you can imagine, didn't go over well."

"He maked me falled over."

"He made you fall over," her mother corrected, almost without thinking.

"Yeah, fall over."

"Well, that's not good. Are you okay?" her mother asked.

She nodded. "Okay. I hit him," she said, pleased with herself.

"Julia Renee, we don't hit people. We especially don't hit family." Her mother stepped over to her, put her finger under her little chin and lifted it so that she was looking her in the eye. "Do you understand?"

"Mommy," she whined. "But he…"

"No buts, Julia. No hitting. You're a big girl. You know better." She used her **very** serious voice.

"Humph." It was the only thing she could do when her mother used that voice. She hugged her doll tighter. "Mean brother," she whispered to her doll.


	3. Third Birthday part 2

She finished her breakfast, her fingers sticky from pushing her pancakes with syrup onto her fork. She took a last drink of her milk. "I finished," she announced.

"Are you sure? Do you want anything else?" her mother asked.

"No. Finished."

"Okay. Let me finish eating and then we'll get ready to go out. You and me."

"Go out? Where?" She was curious now.

"We're going to go to the park. Just you and me. Girl time," her mother told her.

She squealed. "The park. I can go on the swings?"

Her mother laughed. "Of course. And the slide and the climbing toys and even the monkey bars."

She clapped her hands. "I love swinging." She thought for a moment. "No brothers?"

"Nope. No brothers. Just us girls. The boys have something they have to work on while we're gone."

"What?" she asked.

"That's a surprise for later," she paused. "We also need to go to the store and get a few last things for your party."

"My party!"

"Yes." She took a last couple of bites of her pancakes and eggs. "We're going to go get ready now. Alan, can you and the boys clean up before you get back to work on the project?"

"I think we can manage that," he answered. "Don, Charlie, finish up. We've got a lot to get done." Both boys groaned.

Her mother got up from the table. "Thank you, boys." She kissed each of them on the tops of their heads. "Okay, Sweetheart, let's go get cleaned up." She helped her down from her chair and herded her up the stairs. She took her into the bathroom and washed her hands and face and then helped her brush her teeth. "All clean," she told her. "Now, how do you want to wear your hair today? Braids, pony tail…"

"Piggy tails," she interrupted.

"Are you sure? No braids or anything?"

"Like piggy tails," she insisted.

Her mother smiled at her. "Then piggy tails it is. Now do you want them here?" Her mother held her hands at the sides of her head, "Or here?" She held them more towards the back.

She held her own little hands at the sides of her head. "Here."

"Okay. Now come." She led her back to her bedroom. Her mother took the wide tooth comb, elastic bands and the little silver hairbrush from the top of her dresser. Her mother sat on the ottoman in front of the rocking chair and pulled her onto her lap. She started gently combing her long dark hair, making sure that any tangle she came across was worked out with minimal tugging and pulling. This was a regular ritual for the two of them, her mother making time most days to do her hair. She enjoyed this close time with her mother, who after having to deal with her brothers' thick, coarse hair (which they both now wore short rather than deal with it,) loved playing with her thick, but baby soft hair. After she completed the combing ritual, her mother did first the right piggy tail, using her baby brush to smooth every last strand, and then the left. "There. How's that?" she asked.

She got up from her mother's lap and looked in her mirror. She twisted and bobbed her head, making the tails bounce and move. "Piggy tails," she smiled.

"Yes." She went over to the dresser. "Which ribbons to you want?"

She looked at the ribbons lined up on the dresser top. "That one." She pointed to a pair of bright pink ribbons. "An that one." She pointed to a second set of pink plaid ribbons.

"Two?" Her mother thought for a moment. "Okay. I think I know how I can make this work." She took one of each ribbon set, put them together, and then tied them as one around her left pig tail. She separated the loops so both ribbons showed. Satisfied, she did the same to the other side. "Very nice."

She looked into her mirror again. "Pretty," she said.

"Very pretty," her mother added. "Now, I'm going to finish getting ready so that we can go to the park. Can you play here, in your room for a few minutes while I do that?"

"I play," she announced, going over to her small toy box. Her mother smiled and left her rummaging around her toys. She pulled a couple of toy cars from the toy box. Her father had painted the wood cars in shades of pink and purple for her and she enjoyed racing them across the floor. On occasion, her father would set up roads and terrain for her, using pillows and blankets and sometimes even the cushions from the chairs and couches. That part wasn't always appreciated by her mother since they didn't always put the cushions back; a fact discovered when her mother, coming home from a long evening at her office, sat down in her usual chair and found herself crashing into the solid wood frame because the cushions were still stacked on the family room floor. They had made a great mountain chain, though.

She was driving her little pink cars across her rug when she heard her brothers come up the stairs, the unmistakable quick steps of Don and the lighter, slower ones of Charlie. Her elder brother stuck his head in her room.

"Whatcha doing, baby girl?" he asked.

She wrinkled her nose at him. "I'm not a baby."

He looked at her. "I've always called you baby girl."

"Why?"

He crouched down so that he was at her eye level. "When you were first born, Dad took me to visit you and Mom at the hospital." She nodded. She knew that. "When the nurse came to take you back to the nursery, she put you in this plastic bassinette, that's a kind of baby bed," he told her. "These little beds have cards on them that say what the baby's name is and stuff like that. Well, yours said 'baby girl Eppes' on it where the name was supposed to be. Mom and Dad said it was because they hadn't had a chance to put your name on it yet, so it said 'baby girl'. I thought that was kind of strange and funny, but it stuck in my head. So, I used it as your name. And it kind of became our thing. Mom and Dad don't call you baby girl. Neither does Charlie. Just me. It's just for us. 'Cause you'll always be my baby sister." He stood up. "I like that we have something that's just ours."

She wrapped her arms around his legs. "My Donnie." She looked up at him and smiled. "My Donnie."

"Yes, he is," her mother said from where she stood in the doorway. She went over to them. She cupped her elder son's cheek in her hand. "He's a very good big brother." She looked down at her. "You're a very lucky girl to have such a wonderful brother. He loves you very much."

His cheeks flushed. "Mommm."

She laughed. "Go get ready. You have things to do." Her mother unwrapped her arms from around his legs and picked her up. She gave her a kiss. "And we have a park to get to."

"Swings," she squealed.

"Yes. The swings."

Her mother took her downstairs, grabbing her purse off the table in the entry. "Ready, Sweetheart?"

"I want Molly," she said.

"We're not going to take Molly to the park. She's an indoor doll."

"No. Molly likes swings."

"Julie, you sleep with Molly. I don't want to get her dirty."

"She can take a bath!" she said happily.

"That's quite an interesting idea, but I don't think she would like a bath, as much as you like yours."

"Why?"

"Soft dolls like Molly don't like being in water." She paused for a moment. "Why don't we take Belle instead? She doesn't mind water if she gets dirty."

"I like Molly better."

"I know you do. But you know what; I think Molly can help Daddy and your brothers with what they need to do."

"What are they doin'?"

"It's a surprise." She kissed her on the nose. "You'll find out later. Now, let's go get Belle so we can go have our girl time in the park. Okay?"

She made a face. "K."

Together, they went to her toy box in the family room, picked up her doll and then headed out the door to the car.


	4. Third Birthday, part 3

**Author's Note:** **Who knew I had so much to say about a three year old's birthday? There is one more section to this day after this one (I think) before I move on in time. I have approximately 10-12 more "sections"/time periods left of this story and I already have another piece that I've started that I'll finish after this one is done.**

**For all of you who have read and commented, thank you for your feedback, it is most, and greatly, appreciated!**

They arrived back at the house after their trips to the park and store. Her mother unhooked her from her car seat. With her doll under her arm, she jumped out of the car and ran up the front steps of the house. Her mother followed behind, groceries in hand.

Her father greeted her at the door. "Did you have a good time at the park?"

"Yeah. I went on the swings. An I climbed real high on the castle. An I went on the big slide! An Mommy catched me!" she said excitedly.

"Can I have some help here?" her mother asked, coming in with all the bags. "I don't want the ice cream to melt."

Her father took a couple of the bags. "There's enough here to fee a small army. I thought we already had almost everything."

"We did. But I'll give you two words as to why we needed more."

"Don. Charlie," he said.

"Bingo. I don't know where those two put it all." She shook her head.

"Brothers eat lots," she added.

"Yes, they certainly do," her father agreed with her. He lowered his voice. "By the way, everything's ready."

"Let me just put the ice cream away," she said, heading into the kitchen.

She and her father both followed.

She opened the freezer and put the ice cream inside. "Let's do this," she smiled. "Sweetheart, we have a surprise for you."

She bounced up and down. "Birthday surprise!" she shouted. "Birthday!"

Her parents both laughed. "Yes, for your birthday. But you'll use it much more than just for today," her mother said.

"Whats it?" she asked, still bouncing.

"You'll see in just a minute," her father told her, scooping her up in his arms.

"Are the boys upstairs?"

"They are. They were just finishing up the last little details."

She made a face. "Brothers not a surprise."

"No, your brothers aren't the surprise, but they helped with it. Matter of fact, they were both a big help," he told her.

"I wanna see it." She was getting impatient.

"We're going," he said, shaking his head and smiling.

The three of them headed up the stairs. When they reached the second floor, he told her to shut her eyes. She did, pressing her face into his shoulder. She felt them walk down the hallway, then stop. She heard a door open. "Okay, little one, you can look now," her father told her.

She looked up. "Pink!" she squealed.

Her parents laughed. Her brothers rolled their eyes. "Yes, Sweetheart. It's pink. Do you know why it's pink?" her mother asked.

"I like pink," she said, looking around the room.

"Yes. And we know you like pink. So why do you think the room is pink?"

"Dunno." She continued to look around.

"It's pink for you. This is your new big girl room."

"Big girl room? What that?" she asked, looking over to her mother.

"Your room now is a nursery. It's a baby room with a crib. And now that you're three, you get to have a big girl room with a big girl bed." She pointed over to the full size bed with a curved, padded headboard, covered with a pink, green and white plaid fabric. "That's your bed. See your blanket and your stuffed animals?"

Her father put her down so that she could go over to the bed. She shimmied up on to it and then flopped in the middle of her stuffed animals. She grabbed her puppy and held it to her chest. "Mine," she said. "My bed." After a moment, a puzzled look crossed her face. "Where my toys?" she demanded.

Her father sat down on the edge of the bed. "Your toy box is right there." He pointed to the wall across from the bed. "We made sure that everything from your nursery is in here. Well, except for your crib, since you now have big bed."

She pushed herself up from the midst of her toys and started to really look around the room. She'd already noticed the pastel pink paint, but now she also saw the pictures on the walls. "Letters," she said, recognizing the shapes.

"Yes, those are letters and there are also numbers," her father told her. "Charlie made sure that you had numbers."

"Everything is numbers," Charlie said.

"No. I not numbers," she insisted. "I'm a princess."

He rolled his eyes. "No, you don't get it. You see..." He started to launch into an explanation.

"Charlie," their parents and Don said simultaneously.

"What? I'm just trying to make a point about…"

"Sweets, while we appreciate that you have a point, it's not really relevant at this moment," her mother said.

"But,"

"Charlie, your sister's just turning three. She doesn't really care about your point."

"But you see…," he tried again.

"Nerd," Don mumbled under his breath.

"Donald," Charlie retorted.

She giggled.

"Can we refrain from the name calling today? You both need to set a better example for your sister," her mother said.

"Charlie a nerd," she said, still giggling.

"Julie, we don't call people names. Your brothers shouldn't be teaching you that. It isn't a nice thing to do," her mother said, looking over at her brothers.

"It is fun."

"It may be fun, but you don't want someone to call you names. That doesn't feel very good, does it? So, let's find something else to do that's fun." She thought for just a moment. "Why don't you come over here and try out your window seat?"

She tilted her head. "Okay." She slid down the side of her new bed, took the couple of steps to the window seat and pulled herself up on it. She felt the soft chenille fabric of the cushion, a pale green, matching the green in her headboard. She ran her hands over the fabric and smiled. "Soft, Mommy."

Her mother sat down on the bench next to her. "Yes, it is soft." She twirled one of her pigtails. "What do you see out your window?"

She peered out the large windows that ran almost the entire length of her room. "That's outside." She paused. "There's the koi fishes! I see the koi!"

"That's right. Your room faces the backyard now, so you can see the koi pond."

"I like koi," she said, watching the sunlight glint off the water in the pond. She turned to her father and brothers. "I see the koi."

"I don't get to see them from my window," Don said.

"Why?" she asked

Her father answered her. "When we first moved in to this house, when Don was little, he chose the room in the front. He liked watching the cars go by on the street. He also liked watching all the neighbors. He always wanted to know what was going on."

"You did?" she asked, then yawned.

"Yes, he did," her mother said. "I think someone needs to take a nap before her party."

"No," she whined, yawning again.

Her mother pulled her on to her lap. "Yes, you do. You've had a very busy morning, going to the park and the store. So, go tell your brothers thank you for helping with your new big girl room and then let's try out your new bed. Okay?"

"Mommmy," she whined.

Her mother kissed the top of her head. "Sweetheart," she said gently. "Please go say thank you." She put her down on the floor.

She went to Charlie first. "Tank you." She reached up to give him a hug. He bent over, allowing her to wrap her arms around him.

"You're welcome," he answered. "Oh, and since it's your birthday, I guess today you can be a princess."

She put her hands on her hips. "I'm always a princess."

Her parents and Don laughed. "Yes, you are baby girl," Don said.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Tank you, Donnie." She wrapped her arms around his waist.

"You're welcome, baby girl. Happy birthday."

She let go and then looked up at her father. He picked her up and gave her a kiss. She rested her head against him and then yawned again. She **was** ready for her nap. "Let's get some of these stuffed animals out of the way so there's actually room for you," he said.

"No," she whined as her mother started moving the animals. "Mine. I want them."

"They'll just be on your window seat, Sweetheart. They'll still be here," her mother said soothingly.

"Noooo." She tried to reach for the animals.

"Julie, Miss Kitty and Purple Puppy will still be on your bed. The others will be on the window seat. You can see them from your bed," she said quietly.

"Where's my Molly? I want Molly," she fussed.

"Molly is where she always is, on your rocking chair. See?" Her mother pointed to the white rocker in the corner of the room.

Her father took her over to the chair, picked up the rag doll and handed it to her. She squeezed it tight. "My Molly."

He took her back to the bed, now mostly clear, and gently put her down on top of the covers. She didn't like being under her covers when she napped. Napping was different from sleeping and covers were for sleeping. Her parents had quickly learned not to make a big deal over her insistence since she could be just as stubborn as her brothers when she wanted to be.

Her mother took her baby blanket from the footboard of the bed and gently placed it over her. Her baby blanket was okay for napping because it wasn't tucked in like covers. She shifted around a bit to get comfortable, ending up curled up on her side, her rag doll in her arms. "Rest well, little one," she heard her father say as he left the room.

She felt the bed move slightly as her mother sat down on the edge behind her. A moment later, her mother's slender fingers were massaging the back of her neck, finding the exact spot, as she always did, that made her feel the most content. She sighed as she drifted off into peaceful, quiet napland.


	5. Third Birthday part 4

She opened her eyes and looked around, uncertain for a moment as to where she was. Then she remembered that she was in her new room, napping in her new big girl bed. She sat up and realized that she could get out of bed herself, not like her crib where she had to wait for someone to get her out. She pushed her blanket off and slid out of bed, hitting the floor with a little bump. She went to the door, which was already partially open, peeked out and then pushed open the rest of the way. She headed down the hall to the stairs and toddled down them. Once at the bottom, she proceeded to the kitchen, where she pushed the swinging door open.

"Hi, Mommy," she said. "I am up."

Her mother turned around, startled at hearing her in the kitchen. "Yes, you are, aren't you."

"I want lunch," she informed her, climbing up into her chair. "Peanut butter samich."

"I already made a sandwich for you. It's turkey."

"Turkey? I like turkey. No peanut butter. Turkey."

Her mother brought her plate and drink over to her and put them on the island. She looked at it approvingly. The sandwich had its crusts cut off and it was cut into four small triangles and alongside were a few carrot and celery sticks. In her cup was apple juice. She picked up one of the sandwich triangles with both hands and took a bite. "Good lunch, Mommy," she said after finishing one of the sandwich sections.

"I'm glad you like it," she said, continuing her work.

She watched her mother move around the kitchen. "What you doing?" she asked.

"I'm getting the food ready for your party," she told her while pouring a bag of chips into a bowl.

"My party!" she clapped.

"Yes, your party." She checked off another item on her list. "There's going to be lots of food for everyone."

"Cake!" she said excitedly.

She laughed. "Yes, there will be cake. A very special birthday cake. I think you'll really like it."

She looked around the kitchen some more. "What that?" she asked, pointing to a tray on the counter.

"That's crudités. Vegetables."

She made a face. "Mommy, no vegetables."

"They're for the grown ups. You don't have to eat them if you don't want to." She paused. "But I think you'll like this." She took a cherry tomato off the tray and held it up.

Her eyes got wide. She loved tomatoes. She reached for it.

Her mother laughed again. "Open up," she said.

She opened her mouth wide. Her mother put the small tomato in and she bit down, enjoying the juice filling her mouth. Some of it escaped and started dripping down her chin.

She chuckled. "Do you like your tomato?"

She nodded, her pig tails bobbing up and down, and juice still dripping. "Good," she said, with her mouth still full.

Her mother shook her head, still smiling. "I guess you do." She grabbed a towel off the counter and wiped the juice off her chin.

She swallowed the last of the tomato. "Nother one, Mommy."

"Finish your lunch, Sweetheart. You can have more at your party if you want."

"I want it now," she pouted.

"Julie, finish your lunch. When you're done we can get you dressed for your party."

She thought for a moment. "Party dress?" she asked.

"Of course. Matter of fact, there is a very special party dress waiting for you."

"Pretty dress?"

"Very pretty. I know you're going to like it."

She nodded her head once. "K." She picked up another triangle of her sandwich.

When she finished, her mother cleaned her face and hands, then picked her up. She took her up to her new room and put her down in front of her wardrobe. "Time for your party dress."

She pointed to the cabinet. "There."

Her mother opened one of the doors, pulled out the dress and then showed it to her.

She reached out to touch it and then smiled. She loved the dress. "Put it on," she told her mother.

She put the dress down on the bed and then helped her take off her play clothes. She then slipped the dress over her head. Her mother straightened the little sleeves, zipped up the back and then tied the bow. The cotton lawn dress was white with little pink and yellow blossoms spread across it and the belt was a wide, pale pink ribbon that tied in back. Her mother then added fresh white socks, edged in lace and her little pink Mary Jane shoes. "Take a look, Sweetheart."

She went over to her mirror, twirled around and then admired herself in the mirror. "Pretty, Mommy."

Her mother nodded. "You look beautiful." She paused. "Let's do your party hair, now."

She turned to look at her mother. "I have piggy tails," she said.

"Instead of pigtails, let's do party hair." She untied the hair ribbons from her pigtails and then gently took out the rubber bands. "Shake," she instructed her.

She bobbed up and down and shook her head. Her hair fell around her shoulders in a soft mass. Her mother then swept up the sides and front of her hair, creating a little ponytail on top of head, the rest flowing loose. She retied the bright pink ribbons around the little ponytail and brushed out the remaining strands until they shone like dark silk. When she was done, she took a pink cardigan from the wardrobe and put it on her.

She twirled in front of the mirror again.

"You look like such a big girl," her mother said softly. "You know, I think I have something else for you to go with your outfit." She left the room and came back a few moments later, holding a small box. She took out the necklace that was inside. "Your special necklace."

She tilted her head. "Huh?"

"Your special necklace. The one that Don and Charlie gave you," she reminded her, fastening it around her neck.

"Oh, yeah." She fingered the little gold disk with the J engraved on it. Her brothers had given it to her when she'd had her naming ceremony as a baby.

Her mother took a step back. "Perfect. You are now officially ready for your birthday party."

She spun around some more. She loved twirling. "Party. Party," she chanted.

"Yes. Now I'm going to finish getting the last things ready. Daddy will come get you when it's time for you to come down."

"K." She climbed up on her new window seat and watched the preparations going on in the backyard.

Before she knew it, her father came to get her. He took her to the backyard where their family, friends and neighbors had started to gather. Many gave her kisses and hugs, wishing her happy birthday and telling her how big she'd gotten. She willingly accepted the hugs and kisses before starting to run around the yard with the few other kids who were close to her age. They played tag and duck-duck-goose, threw fish food in the pond for the koi, snacked on the food spread across the picnic tables. All the while, the adults chatted and ate, watching them play and listening to their giggles and squeals.

And finally, it was time for her to open her presents. She sat on her mother's lap, surrounded by the pile of multicolored packages, their ribbons and bows reflecting the early spring sunlight. She ripped the wrapping paper from the boxes, her mother saving the bows and ribbons in a bag, knowing that she would enjoy playing with them later. Inside she found dolls and games, stuffed animals and clothes, gifts from her parents interspersed with those from their friends.

At one point, Charlie handed her a box. She shook it. It made an interesting noise that she couldn't quite figure out. She ripped open the box. Inside was a wooden rectangle with dowels running across and wooden beads on the dowels. "What is it?" she asked him.

"An abacus," he said proudly.

"What?" She had no idea what that was, but she did enjoy pushing the beads back and forth. They made such an interesting sound and she loved the movement.

"An abacus. It's like an ancient calculator."

She shook her head. She still didn't understand, but she just kept pushing the beads around. She liked that.

"That's an interesting choice for your sister, Charlie," her mother said.

He shrugged. "She seems to enjoy it."

A moment later, her mother handed her another present. "This one is from Don," she told her.

She shredded the wrapping paper. Inside, she found a plastic box but she didn't know how to open it. She looked back at her mother. "Open it," she said.

Her mother reached around her and flipped back the lid. She looked inside.

"I know that you like drawing and coloring, so I got you stuff to do that. You know, a whole bunch of different kinds of crayons, white paper, other paper that's a bunch of different colors and some coloring books," Don said. "I thought you could keep the box on your little table in your room and that way, you'd always have your stuff."

"I like coloring," she said happily, poking around the box.

After she looked at all the different things in the box, her mother helped her put the lid back on. "There's one more present for you, Sweetheart, from Daddy and me." She pointed to the side of the house. "Look over there."

She looked over, along with everyone else. Her father came around the corner, wheeling a pink tricycle, complete with streamers on the handlebars and a little bell.

"Trike," she squealed, sliding off her mother's lap and running over to where her father stood with the little bike. He lifted her onto the seat, making sure she didn't get tangled up in her dress. She put her little feet on the pedals and pushed, trying to get the tricycle to move on the grass. Everyone smiled and laughed, enjoying her excitement.

"I think it will be easier on the driveway, little one," her father said, giving her a slight push to help get the bike moving.

She pedaled a short way then stopped. "Fun, Daddy!"

"You'll have a lot of fun," he told her, lifting her off the bike. "Right now, though, I think you'll have a good time at the table. Mommy's about to bring out your cake."

"Cake!" She ran back to the table and climbed up on her seat. A few moments later, her mother came out of the house carrying a pink-frosted sheet cake, candles aglow. Everyone started to sing "Happy Birthday." Her mother then placed the cake in front of her. It was covered in frosting flowers of all different types and colors and "Happy Birthday, Julie" was written on it in darker pink frosting.

"Close your eyes and make a wish, Sweetheart," her mother told her.

She did.

"Now, blow out the candles."

She took a deep breath and then blew at the candles with all her might until they went out. Once they did, she reached for the cake with both hands, sinking her fingers into the frosting. She pulled back her hands, full of cake, and shoveled it into her mouth, a lot of it ending up on her face.

"Julie," her mother laughed, "that's for everyone."

She looked up at her mother. "Good cake," she said though the food in her mouth.

Her mother shook her head, still laughing. "I'm glad you like it." She started to cut pieces for everyone, avoiding the section that she'd already made her own.

After the cake and ice cream was done, the party started to wind down and the adults began the clean up. When they finished, she said good bye to everyone. She looked around. The house and yard were so quiet. She went to her mother and pressed her face into her side. She stroked her hair. "I think it's time to get you into a bath." She pulled back her hand, wiped it on her pants and laughed softly. "You have cake in your hair."

"Yummy cake," she mumbled.

"Mmm," she said, reaching down to pick her up. "Bath time." She carried her in to the house, up the stairs and to her bath.

After her mother finished washing the cake out of her hair, she bundled her up in her big, warm fluffy towel, dried her off and then put her in her pajamas. She brought her back downstairs to the family room, where she started poking around her presents. Now, with the energy and excitement gone, she had the time to really check out what she'd received. She particularly enjoyed the stuffed animals, squeezing them, rubbing them against her cheeks to see how soft they were.

While she sat on the floor with all her new things, her parents sat behind her on the couch, talking softly. She heard bits and pieces of what they were saying, but it didn't really make much sense to her. She finally decided that she'd had enough of playing by herself and she took one of her new stuffed animals, a soft little bunny that her Aunt Irene had given her, and climbed up onto her mother's lap. She snuggled close, stroking her bunny while listening to her parents. She kept hearing them use one particular unfamiliar word over and over.

"Mommy," she asked sleepily. "What's a Princeton?" She felt the arms holding her tighten.

"What do you mean?"

"You and Daddy keep talking about Princeton and I don't know what it is. Is it for princes and princesses? Sounds like it. But I don't know." She wiggled a bit, trying to get her mother to loosen her hold; it was getting uncomfortably tight.

"Shh," she whispered. She started playing with her still slightly damp hair, trying to settle her. "You don't need to worry about that, Sweetheart."

"But I wanna know. What is it?"

"Princeton is a place, little one," her father answered. "It's far away, in New Jersey."

"Alan," she heard her mother whisper.

"Daddy, what's New Jersey?"

He chuckled softly. "New Jersey is a state. Like California, where we live."

She sat up a little straighter. "But we live in Pasadena."

"Pasadena is a city in California. Princeton is a city in New Jersey," he told her. "You're very curious."

"Cause I wanna know. You keep talking about it. Why?" she demanded.

"Julie, you don't need to worry about Princeton. Not today." Her mother, who had stopped stroking her hair, started playing with the little curls at the ends again, separating each one.

"Margaret…," her father started.

"Alan, not now," she whispered. She felt her mother kiss the top of her head. "Today is about birthdays and cake and ice cream and presents."

"I like presents." She relaxed back into her mother's arms, enjoying her warmth and the way her fingers were playing with her hair. "But I want to know about the place with the princes and princesses."

"Julie, Mommy and I will tell you all about it, but not now," he used his gentle but firm tone.

"But I wanna know," she whined. She was tired.

"Sweetheart, why don't I tell you a story about a princess, instead of one about Princeton? A story about Princess Julia and her magical kingdom?"

"Are there ponies?"

She felt her mother laugh. "Of course. Ponies and puppies and maybe even a couple of knights in shining armor."

"Pink ponies. I like pink." She snuggled closer.

"Okay, pink ponies." She kissed the top of her head again. "For you, pink ponies. Are you comfortable now?"

"Uh huh."

"Okay. Once upon a time in a far away magical kingdom…"


	6. Season of Change part 1

She spent much of that spring embracing her new, three-year old independence, riding her tricycle up and down the driveway of their Craftsman home, pondering the view from the window seat of her new room. She played with her toys, listened to the quiet conversations between her parents and wondered what they were talking about.

Her brothers came and went like they usually did, Don to school and baseball, out with his friends and on dates, Charlie to his tutors and classes and school. Her father went to work, spent time with his plans spread out on their dining room table. Her mother saw her clients, wrote her briefs and went to court. It all seemed the same, each day like the ones before it, but it also seemed somehow different, like something was happening that she didn't know about. She didn't have the words to describe it, but she could feel it.

One evening, they were all at the dinner table, her parents at either end, Charlie on one side and her and Don on the other. She sat between Don and her mother, because when she'd sat on the same side as Charlie, she'd developed the habit of trying to throw her food at him. She couldn't do that with Don. When she'd tried, he gently but firmly grabbed her wrist, told her "No" and made her put her food back on the plate. She'd tried twice more, getting the same reaction from him each time. She gave up after that and ate her dinner.

But this night seemed different. She sat quietly eating, using her fingers to push her chicken and potatoes on to her fork. Next to her, Don just moved his food around on his plate. She looked at him. "Don, eat," she told him. She couldn't have her dessert until everyone finished their dinners.

Her mother looked over and examined his expression. "Do you have something you want to tell us?" she asked.

He looked up from his plate, a small smile on his face. He looked at her and then looked over to the other end of the table at his father. "I made a decision," he said.

There was a long moment of silence. "Well?" their father asked. "Are you going to tell us?"

His smile got wider. "I'm going to Cal State Fullerton."

"Are you sure?" their mother asked. "You aren't going to change your mind?"

He shook his head. "Nope. I'm sure. I'm going to Fullerton and I'm going to play baseball."

"You know that you're going to college to do more than just play baseball, right?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know. But I'm not sure what I want to study yet. Maybe history or political science or maybe psychology. I can do all those there."

"This is what you want?" their father asked.

He nodded. "Yeah."

He broke into a wide grin. "Congratulations, Donnie."

Their mother also smiled. She reached around her and took his hand. "I'm very proud of you."

His cheeks flushed.

She looked down to the other end of the table. "I think this calls for a toast," she said.

She looked up at the mention of toast. "Why are we going to have toast? We're eating dinner."

They all laughed. "Sweetheart," her mother started. "It's not that kind of toast. Just watch and follow along."

"Oh. Okay."

They lifted their glasses and she picked up her juice cup. "To good decisions made. Don to CSUF and Charlie to Princeton."

"And to the two of us for making it through the college process times two," her father added. "And for the fact that we won't have to do it again for fifteen years."

They all reached around and clinked glasses. She tried to do the same, but managed to mostly spill her juice.

She put her cup down. "Why did we do that?" she asked. "It's weird."

Her father answered her. "We did it because we're happy. Your brothers made big decisions the last few days and we're very proud of them. They know where they're going to college."

"What's college?" she asked, turning back to her dinner

"It's big school. Where you go after high school," her mother answered.

She cocked her head. "Why are they gonna do that? Don and Charlie go to big school." She'd seen their high school. It looked huge to her.

"It's different, Sweetheart. You do different things, learn different things." She paused. "It's part of growing up."

"Why?"

"There are things you learn at different times in different places. College is a place to learn more grown up things," she said.

"Why do they want to do that?"

"Because it's time for them, little one. Just like we talked about your starting preschool in the fall. It's part of you becoming a big girl. This is a part of them becoming adults," her father told her. "It's about them learning about finding their way in the world, away from home," he added softly.

"Alan," her mother whispered. Her brothers both looked at her.

She looked at her father. "Why would they do that? Why would they go away?"

"Sweetheart, your brothers aren't going away forever. There will be times when they're away at school and times when they're home. But you aren't going anywhere. Not for a long time. And when it's time, you'll be ready. Just like your brothers are," her mother told her gently.

She shook her head vehemently. "No. I'm never going away. I'm staying forever."

Her father chuckled softly. "Okay. If that's what you want. But let's see what you think when you're seventeen."

"No. Staying," she insisted.

"Mommy and I will be glad to have you," her father said. "And I'm sure we'll see your brothers."

Charlie and Don both nodded. "Of course you will." Don leaned over and tousled her hair. "I won't be too far away. You might not even realize I'm gone." He thought for a moment. "You know, Dad might even be able to bring you to some of my games. Might be nice to have my own cheerleader."

She looked over at him and then nodded. "Daddy, we are going," she said firmly.

"Okay, little one," he responded. "We'll make sure we see Donnie a lot."

She looked across the table at Charlie. "You come, too. You come to the baseball games."

Her mother answered her before Charlie had a chance. "Sweetheart, Charlie will be at Princeton. Remember, Daddy and I told you that it's far away."

"Oh," she said. An awkward silence filled the dining room. After a long moment, her mother broke the silence.

"Come on, everyone. Finish your dinners so we can have dessert. I've got brownies."

"Chocate?" she asked excitedly.

"Chocolate fudge brownies," she said. "And I think we have ice cream to have on top." She smiled at her. "We'll have them to celebrate, your brothers going to college and you, young lady, you'll be going to preschool. It's a very exciting time." She paused again. "For all of us."

She pushed the last of her dinner on to her fork and shoved it in her mouth. "I'm finished," she said with her mouth full.

"Are you sure?" her mother asked.

She struggled to swallow all that she'd shoved in her mouth. "Uh huh," she said finally. "I want brownie now."

"What else do you say when you want something?"

She thought for a moment. "Oh. Please brownie."

Her mother got up from the table and stepped behind her. "Yes, that's right. Very good." She kissed the top of her head, wrapped her arms around her and gave her a quick squeeze. "My sweet girl," she whispered. "I'll go get those brownies now."


	7. A Parents' Interlude I

**Author's Note: There are a few places in this story where I thought having the perspective of Alan and Margaret would be enlightening. Instead of mixing those perspective shifts into existing chapters, I created the occasional chapter that would just be their persepctives.**

**So, without further ado, Margaret and Alan's interlude...**

She was cleaning up the kitchen from dinner, putting away the leftovers when Alan came in, carrying some of the plates from the table. He put them in the sink, wiped his hands on the towel resting on the counter and turned to her.

"Well, he finally made up his mind," he said.

She nodded. "Yes, he did. I have to admit, though, I'm a little surprised. I really thought that he'd choose Arizona. That he'd go farther away." She stopped cleaning up and put both hands on the counter. "Do you think we presured him to stay closer? He knows the decision that Charlie made, that we made. I mean I know we didn't say anything specific…" Her voice trailed off.

He leaned back against the island. "When was the last time we were able to pressure him into doing anything? This is Don we're talking about."

"Alan." She stared down at the counter. "We talked to him about the fact that I'm going to Princeton with Charlie. What if he thinks that that meant he needed to be here? With Julie, with you?"

"Margaret." He moved away from the island to stand next to her, wrapping his arm around her waist. She rested her head on his shoulder. "He wants to play baseball. He wants to follow that dream and he picked a great place to do it. He's eighteen. If he can't do it now, when can he?"

They both turned when they heard a bump against the kitchen door. "Help," a little voice squeeked.

He went to the door. "Julie, back up, honey. I'll open the door." He waited a moment before carefully pushing the door open.

She stepped through the doorway. "My hands is full," she said. "I can't push the door." She had dinner plates in both hands.

"Let me take those, Sweetheart," she said.

Julie handed one plate to her mother. "This my plate," she said. She then handed her the other plate. "This is Charlie's"

A wistful smile crossed her face. "You are such a good helper. Thank you." She looked into her daughter's soft, chocolate eyes, still full of such innocence. Her little girl.

He noticed the look, the smile that crossed his wife's face. "Little one, why don't you go play for a little bit? Let Mommy and I finish cleaning up and then we'll play a game together, the three of us."

"Candyland?" she asked excitedly.

He smiled at her. "If that's what you want to play." He knew that it would be. She'd become obsessed with the game since receiving it for her birthday. After a couple of times through the game, he'd come to appreciate the fact that both boys had had far different interests in games growing up.

She nodded, her ponytail bouncing up and down. "I will get it ready," she said, pushing her way back through the kitchen door.

He waited until the door stopped swinging. "It's about her," he started. "You'll miss her."

"Yes."

"We don't have to do this…"

She interrupted him. "Yes, we do. We've discussed this. It's our best option."

"There's always another choice." He moved back next to her. "Maybe we wait a year."

She shook her head. "No. We chose this path." She took a deep breath. "We've already sacrificed so much. If we don't keep going, what was all the sacrifice for? We have to do this." She put her hands back on the counter, gripping the edge.

"Margaret."

"Don't, Alan." She shook her head again. "We knew when we started down this road that there would be times when it would be hard, and we did it anyway. We did it because we both agreed that it was for the best, that we couldn't deny who and what Charlie is, that we had to do whatever we could."

"Do you regret it?" he asked her softly.

"Regret it? No. I can't regret giving my son what he needs. But it doesn't mean that it isn't hard."

He could hear the ache in her voice, knowing how hard it was for her to have to choose between the different, conflicting needs of her children. But even knowing that, he couldn't stop. "You're leaving us," he said. "Leaving her."

"I know," she whispered. "I know." She looked over at him, her eyes damp. "I could take her with me to New Jersey."

"No," he said, quietly but firmly. "We decided that we're not giving up our lives, our home, here. I'm staying here. Julie's staying here. She's going to live in her house, sleep in her bed. She's going to the preschool that we've already enrolled her in. We're not taking any of it away from her. This is what she knows." He paused. "She wouldn't be happy cooped up in a small apartment in New Jersey. Here is a part of who she is."

"I don't want to leave her." The words caught in her throat. "She's still a baby."

He wrapped his arms around her, turning her so that she faced him. She pressed her face into his shoulder. "I know," he told her gently.

"She still needs me."

"I can take care of her. She'll be okay. We'll be okay."

"But I'm her mother." She barely got the words out before her tears started to fall. "She needs me. They all need me."

He stroked her hair. He knew it was true. Their children all needed her. He needed her. He also knew that she was right. They had chosen this path and they'd done it with their eyes open. There was no turning back now. He kissed the top of her head. "We need to go out there and play that damned game," he said.

She looked up. "You realize you'll be playing it a lot, right?"

"No. No way. I'm going to teach her to play chess."

"Good luck with that." She turned the cold water on in the sink and splashed some of it on her face, attempting to remove the traces of her tears.

He reached into a cabinet, pulled out a fresh towel and handed it to her. She blotted her face with it. "Better?" she asked.

He nodded. Her eyes were still rimmed in red but he didn't think the kids would notice. He took her hand. "Let's go." He pushed the door open, leading her through.

"Okay, little one," he said. "Show us what you've got."


	8. Season of Change part 2

She sat at the table, eating her bowl of cereal. "Sweetheart," her mother said, "Don't dawdle. We need to get you dressed so that we can leave. We don't want to be late."

"Why?" she asked. "Where are we going?"

"Remember, today we're going to your brothers' graduation ceremony. It's a very important, very special day for them."

She nodded. She remembered her parents talking about graduation. They were going to get dressed up and Charlie was going to give a speech. Then they were going out to lunch.

She shoveled her cereal in her mouth. She liked getting dressed up and she liked when they went out to eat. She wasn't so sure that she wanted to listen to Charlie talk, though. A lot of the time she didn't understand what came out of his mouth.

She finished eating and slid down off of her chair. She started to head for the stairs to go up to her room when her mother's voice stopped her. "Julie, put your bowl in the kitchen, please," she said.

She turned around. One of her responsibilities now that she was three was to put her dishes in the kitchen after she was done eating. She still had a hard time remembering to do it and her parents constantly had to remind her. She went back to the table, took her cereal bowl and cup and took them to the kitchen. She put them on the counter by the sink, standing on her tiptoes. She pushed back through the door. "I did it," she told her mother proudly. She felt like such a big girl.

"Good job, Julie. Thank you," her mother said.

She headed back for the stairs. Her other morning chore was to help make her bed. Well, not so much making the bed as taking her stuffed animals off the bed and floor and putting them on her window seat so that her mother could make the bed.

"I'll be up in a minute to help you get ready."

"K, Mommy." She hiked up the steps to her room. When she got there, she started carefully moving her animals to the window seat, making sure to line them up exactly the way that she wanted them. She then put her favorite ragdoll, Molly, on her rocking chair, her usual location. She was just finishing her task when she heard her mother's voice behind her. "You take very good care of your animals."

She looked at her mother. "They are my babies."

Her mother smiled. "You are a very good mommy. You're animals are very lucky."

She picked up her ragdoll from the rocker. "Molly is my baby, too."

"She is, is she? Is she a little girl or a big girl?"

She hugged her doll. "She is little."

"Do you like being a mommy to a little girl?"

She nodded.

Her mother knelt so that she was at her eye level. "I like being mommy to a little girl, too. It makes me very happy." She brushed back a strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear and then gave her a kiss on the cheek.

She kissed her back. "My mommy."

"Always and forever, my sweet girl." She stood up.

"Ladies, you don't have much time," she heard her father call from somewhere else in the house.

"We know," her mother called back. "Now, we need to get you ready," she said, going to her wardrobe and pulling out a little plaid dress.

Her mother helped her get dressed and then started to do her hair. "Mommy, I want piggy tails," she said.

"We're not doing pig tails today. You're wearing a dress-up dress."

"But I like piggy tails," she whined.

"Sweetheart, not today." She brushed out her hair. "You know, I think I have a compromise that might work."

"What is compromise?"

"It means we both get some of what we want." She made a small pig tail on each side, leaving the rest of her hair loose, falling over her shoulders. "I think that will work. Now look in the mirror."

She went to her mirror, tilting her head back and forth. "I think it is good," she said.

"Okay, then. I need to go get ready. Can you finish putting away your animals and toys, please?"

"Uh huh." She went to her animals and fussed with them some more and then moved to her few toys that were on her floor.

She'd finished her task and was sitting at her little table coloring when her mother popped her head in the door. "Let's go, Julie."

She put down her crayons and then looked up at her mother. She smiled. "Mommy, you look pretty." She was wearing a blue shift dress and one of her favorite necklaces, a locket given to her by Alan on their first anniversary.

"Thank you," her mother said, reaching for her hand.

She got up, took her hand and headed down the hall. She noticed the click of her mother's heels on the wood floor. "Mommy, you have noisy shoes."

"They're my heels. Shoes I wear when I get dressed up," she explained. "I like wearing them. And your father likes when I wear them, too," she added.

"Huh?" She didn't understand why her father would be interested in her mother's shoes.

She laughed. "That will make more sense to you when you're older, Sweetheart. Much older." They continued down the hall. "Just notice the look on Daddy's face when we get downstairs."

They headed down the steps. "Well, it's about time, ladies. We don't want to be late," her father said from the bottom of the staircase.

She noticed that he looked up and then the expression on his face changed. He got a strange, almost silly smile on his face. She'd seen that look on Don's face a few times when he was talking on the phone. She giggled.

Her mother gave her hand a little squeeze. She leaned over and whispered, "See?"

She giggled again.

"What?" her father asked. "What's so funny?"

Her mother gave her hand another little squeeze. "Just girl talk."

"Okay…" He shook his head. "It's starting already," he mumbled to himself. "Let's go, my lovely ladies." He reached over to pick her up and once he had her safely settled, he took her mother's hand and they headed out the door.


End file.
